pt-141
by greencrayon
Summary: "I'm assuming this has something to do with Katherine drugging me?" she said acidly to hide her fear, and something else. "Have you ever heard of PT-141?" he asked.
1. it's just you and me

A/N: It's been a long time since I've written, but I couldn't help it when this came to me. I'd love feedback. No flames, be nice - I'm rusty, and un-beta'd. And I've never written smut before, which is hopefully coming up, SO if you've ever written it any advice or beta offers are appreciated. Also, you may like to google PT-141 if you want to know what we're getting into.

i won't tell anybody that you turn the world around

i won't tell anybody that your voice is my favourite sound

i won't tell anybody, won't tell anybody

they wanna see us fall. **they wanna see us fall down.**

It was the nausea that first woke her. Fighting its way up her throat, the muscles in her face were tensing in an effort to force the feeling away before she was even conscious. And then she was awake, with a gasp of humid air, suddenly aware of the punishingly hard ground her face and body lay heavily on. Grit pushing painfully into her cheek forced her upwards, despite the wave of sickness that came over her, and she uncomfortably pulled her self into a half-sitting position, leaning on the rough wall she felt beside her. She was immediately hit with a heady pain across her scalp, which settled into a strong, dully pulsing headache.

She felt like her grip on the world had been torn away from her, the pain and nausea distracting her from being able to think straight. But she immediately knew something wasn't right. _Well,_ she thought to herself, _of course something's not right._ But it was more than that. She wasn't just disorientated and in pain, she was also painfully aware of a multitude of dangerous situations she could possibly be in. She knew, aided, and was _involved_ with, vampires. Her sacrificial death was also a fairly important ingredient in the breaking of a curse. A curse the oldest and most powerful vampires wanted broken. Not exactly a charming outlook when waking up after what she assumed was her kidnapping.

But as she opened her eyes, slowly, pushing the (receding, but still all too present) instinct to gag away, she immediately felt hope, a small flicker inside her. She knew this place; she'd been here many times. It was _almost home_. _Almost_…because it was not quite. Not quite the intimidating, but warm and safe manor she knew was above it. But _home_ because it was so close to it. The only thing stopping her was that door, which she could see; from the far wall she was leaning against, was chained and bolted shut. And then, another shot of hope, mixed with a strong nagging feeling of apprehension, as she spotted him. He sat straight against the wall to her left, out of the dim stream of light that stretched across the floor of the room. His legs were straight, crossed at the ankle, and he was turning something slowly in his hands. She frowned, waited for him to look at her. Surely he'd noticed her waking. Surely he wasn't the one who put her here…

"Damon…?", she ventured carefully, and watched as his head lifted and turned towards her, his features still indistinct.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," he replied slowly, with no sign of the common threatening note in his voice. Elena swallowed at the tenderness she heard in his voice. He'd spoken as though afraid his voice alone would break her. What was going on?

"You won't be feeling good." He said through the darkness, even though his head had turned away again, and he did not see her reach for her stomach with her clutching hand as another wave hit. At least now that her head rested still against the rock wall, the pain felt further away. "It won't last," and she only just heard what he muttered next, "Although you may soon be wishing it did." Elena thought she sensed just a touch of embarrassment in his voice.

"Damon. What's going on? I don't understand" Elena said strongly, after taking a shuddering breath. He still did not look at her again, but he began to speak, his voice low and discouragingly despondent.

"There are some things you should know. Others you should figure out on your own," he shot her a quick look, but she could not see, in order to read, the expression on his face, "in a few hours I'd reckon. You've been out for at least two, since I got here. I was given vervain, only a little, long enough for _her_ to get me here. All you required was a knock to the head."

His voice was absent of its usual sing-song sarcasm. She felt a small tug inside her as she realised the only time this happened was when he was worried, _really_ worried. About her. Always about her.

"Katherine." She said, like the word was a bitter taste in her mouth. "What is she doing Damon? Where's Stefan?"

He sighed, loudly, crossly and pulled his legs up so his feet were flat on the floor.

"It's really not as a bad as you think," and then she could see, as well as sense, his trademark smirk spreading across his face, "although, it is also much worse." And then the smirk was gone and he was again staring intently at the object in his hand. "I assume you're still feeling ill?"

"Yes, and I suppose you know why?" she replied testily, trying to insert some semblance of control into her voice.

"Yes," he replied simply, "and you should really try to go to sleep. Trust me, Elena."

"I really think that my priority in this situation, however bad I'm feeling, isn't to _sleep_ Damon, it's to figure out how the hell we're going to get out of here…and kill that…bitch, before she kills Stefan! And I _know_ she has him, she must, why else are we locked away down here? But I **refuse** to be helpless…"

"Really Elena? I mean, _really_?", he interrupted, putting an abrupt end to her admittedly slightly crazed spiel.

"…what?", her voice was suddenly small and he saw her face drop, she already knew what he was going to say.

"_Sleep_, Elena. She doesn't want to kill him, she wants…", he broke short and swallowed at the expression dancing across her face, both confused, and painfully aware. "There's nothing we can do. Nothing I haven't already tried while you've been unconscious. And that's how you need to remain. You have problems of your own to deal with."

"I don't understand…and I also think I might vomit," she replied, leaning forward, and bracing one hand on the floor.

"You're not going to vomit. You'll just feel like you're going to for a while. It'll pass."

"Did she give me something? Am I drugged?", Elena demanded with sudden clarity, her face still turned down at the rocky floor, knuckles on her hand white as it tried to grip the ground and force away another sudden wave.

"I'm afraid so," he began, a strange tone to his voice that she couldn't place through this haze of nausea. She groaned at his answer and he carried on, "**but** Elena, you're not going to vomit, or die, or want to die…for much longer. There are no long lasting side affects and it doesn't last forever. So ._Go. To. Sleep."_

He watched her lower herself slowly, carefully to the ground, wincing as she placed her head on the ground. Within a flash Damon was crouched beside her, his leather jacket off, and folded under her head. She blinked, and he was on the other side of the room again, looking at the door as if he wished his eyes could burn a hole through it.

She closed her own, and surrendered to the restless doze that took her immediately. She dreamt she felt a cold, gentle hand on her brow, and heard a voice. _Everything will be all right,_ it said. When she woke again, it wasn't from nausea. Her limbs were stiff, but her body was throbbing, deeply, all the way through. And suddenly, something switched.

She lay there for a while, keeping her eyes determinedly shut, trying to push past the inexplicable arousal that was overpowering, in a completely different way to earlier, her ability to think. Her mind tried desperately to explain it to her, but she couldn't connect how she felt now, to how she had felt going to sleep. She knew she hadn't imagined her situation, she could still feel the ground pressing against her bones, and smell the humid scent of dirt and rock, and _darkness._ She could sense no light, and flickered her eyes open to check quickly, before jamming them shut again. It was night. But she felt none of the nausea from before, and her headache was gone, though the back of her skull felt bruised when she shifted onto her back. Something else came over her as she shifted, and she tried not to gasp as her body reacted to this innocent movement. She cursed herself for feeling this way, she felt disgusted by herself. She remembered vivid dreams, right before she woke. She was a sexually modest person, and these dreams…she felt a flush cover her face just remembering, and oddly hoped that Damon wasn't looking at her, couldn't see her through the darkness.

Thinking of Damon, in the same room, probably aware of her every tiny movement and sound, she tried, in vain, not to dwell on the images swelling in her mind. The feeling of Stefan taking her, the sound of him behind her, in front of her, her own sounds against his skin as she made hot wet marks on his coldness. These were not memories; they were fantasies, tumbling ahead of her, out of her control, playing before her closed, flickering eyes. And then, images of Damon's face, above hers, at her neck, between her legs suddenly flicked into her mind before she could stop them. She forced herself to jolt out of her reverie, feeling insanely dirty and pathetic as she pushed herself upwards and sat, breathing heavily, trying not to think about how much Damon knew at that moment of her body's betrayal.

"I'm not going to have sex with you." His sudden voice shocked her, not to mention what he said.

"Excuse me?" she replied, trying to sound indignant, rather than inexplicably disappointed. His gravely voice had swept through her, with no barrier and she shuddered.

She heard him shift, could see now the outline of his body, his arms and legs.

"I'm gonna be honest here Elena. And you're not going to like it. But please, for god's sake, don't get upset, what's happening to your body _will_ pass. And yes, I know what's happening to your body," he heard her inhale sharply, "and not just because I can_ smell_ it" he said (rather hungrily she thought, but put it down to her obviously out of control hormones). She swallowed down her embarrassment.

"I'm assuming this has something to do with Katherine _drugging_ me?" she said acidly to hide her fear, and something else.

"Have you ever heard of PT-141?" he asked, Elena thought she sensed just a touch of embarrassment in his voice. She supposed that he wasn't used to someone else being in control, and she wasn't surprised that he would be feeling ashamed by being unable to prevent this happening to them. To _her_, she reminded herself, noting that he seemed to be feeling fine and dandy in comparison to her current state.

Elena shook her head in response, knowing he could see it.

"Of course not…" he murmured to himself, before clearing his throat. " It's what Katherine's, ever so kindly, injected you with. A rather high dose as well, given the nausea and headaches your reaction began with. A sex drug, in simple terms. It tends to result in heightened arousal, better results from sexual encounters…" He faltered, "I'm sure you get my gist. In different circumstances it can be a lot of fun." He tossed a small empty glass vial towards her, and she reached forward to pick it off the ground, ignoring the clench low down within her as she did so. She could make out the pharmaceutical looking label on the container, but nothing more.

"She threw that in with you, while saying something a long the lines of, 'enjoy her the same way I'm about to enjoy your younger brother. She'll finally want you,'" he mimicked, and Elena couldn't help but pick up the bitter and hurt note in his voice. "I'm assuming Stefan has also been dosed, if she's to get what she wants. Although his experience of it will be quite different."

"How do you mean?", Elena asked, a slight taste of bile in her mouth at the thought of Stefan feeling the way she was feeling right now, around Katherine. That feeling was grinding desire, and it was forcing her to concentrate quite hard on thoughts of Stefan and purity, in order to _not_ think about the man in the room with her.

"Being a vampire, he can take extremely high doses and not experience any of the negative side affects. He'll be feeling all-encompassing, out of this world, pleasure right now, and it can last a long time." Elena frowned.

"How do you know all this?", she asked, wishing she hadn't almost as soon as it came out her mouth. He laughed shortly.

"How do you think? I've done this before. Many times," he replied, making her roll her eyes.

"Of course you have." She thought for a little, keeping still to avoid _those _currents, that seemed to run from her fingertips through her blood and down to her core like molten metal, occurring no matter how innocently she moved.

"But _why_, Damon? I understand the premise. She gets Stefan alone, so _horny_ it's unbearable, and maybe she thinks he'll have sex with her if I'm not around. And the same thing, I suppose goes with our situation doesn't it? She removes me, both of us, temporarily, thinking that by the time she lets us out, I'm firmly in your arms, and out of her way. And then if she still hasn't secured Stefan, she will when he realises what I've done. That's what she wants to happen, isn't it? That's what she thinks will happen…"

Damon was silent for a moment; she could not see his hand tightly gripping his thigh, to control his unreasonable reaction to hearing her indirectly admit that she was unbearably horny.

"You've got the basic idea right. But it's not just about sex, Elena. She knows that sex alone cannot destroy what you two have. Her plan is based upon the belief that sex between her and Stefan, and I assume between you and I, would reveal much more than pleasure. That during, and following, the act, realisation of love would occur, impossible to ignore." His voice was a forced monotone.

"Oh." Elena, try as she might, could not force her self to feel more concern over Katherine's plan, than she did her persistent arousal.

"But don't worry, it's not going to work."

"I know that,", Elena retorted.

"No. You don't, but I do. I'll say it again, I'm not going to have sex with you. Right now you're turned on, but it's nothing compared to what's coming. And I'm not going to be surprised, or judge you, when you reach breaking point. Luckily, it seems Katherine overlooked drugging me, foolishly thinking I had no control to break down in the first place. And so, as much as it may slightly pain me to say this," he sighed reluctantly, "You're safe with me."

Elena forced her slightly gaping mouth shut, she was amazed by how…_chivalrous_ he was being. _Damon_, the same Damon who tried to force her to admit her feelings for him, force her to kiss him, and killed her brother when she didn't, was going to refuse to have sex with her, no matter what she did or how much she begged, it would seem. A slightly awkward silence took over the room, and they both sat, quietly absorbed in their own thoughts, Damon keeping his eyes trained on her.

He was right, the ball of desire that sat heavy, low in her abdomen was growing, turning, her skin pin-prickling with sensitivity. And for a moment, in amidst her gratitude and relief, she felt _regret_ that he was being so chivalrous, and understanding.

As her desire grew, so did an unreasonable anger that she had to be locked in here with fucking _Saint _Damon_._ If she was going to be feeling like _this,_ in a locked dungeon, with Damon, she didn't want this sanctimonious version of him. For the first time, she _wanted_ the Damon she used to know. Her breasts were aching against the restraint of her bra, the muscles in her torso and legs taut with pressure, and there was a telling trickle between her legs. No, right now she definitely did _not _want the increasingly soft and surprisingly tender Damon that had been slowly appearing, but the one who would kill, _literally kill_, to be in this situation with her. That Damon, the one she had hated so sharply, but then felt, with the same knife, a cutting desire when came too close to her, with that (not quite) smile on his face. He wouldn't think twice about satisfying her, riding out this trip with her, and then forgetting all about it once they left the room. This new Damon, she somehow knew, wanted to be able to use this opportunity, but something was stopping him. His **humanity.** _Ugh, _Elena thought to herself, feeling only slight shame now, _could I not have waited until __after__ this before I spurred his little soul recovery?_

In the deep recesses of her mind Elena was aware that the toll of the drug was not only strong on her libido, but also her inhibitions. She knew she was a responsible, caring, cautious person, but in her current state she could only scoff at her usual self. Right now all that mattered was the ache between her legs, that strengthened as her power to resist it steadily diminished. She knew she was wrong to be wishing Damon would just shut up about being in control and safe (blah blah blah) and fuck her, and that normally, while it wouldn't be the last thing on her mind, she'd still never even consider, _imagine,_ doing that to Stefan. Even though he was her ex, this was his brother she was talking about. The supposed 'bad' brother. _Yeah well,_ _not so bad after all… _she was unable to stop herself from growling lightly in annoyance at this thought, causing Damon to look over. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She knew it wasn't her fault that she was thinking so irrationally, or wanting Damon so badly, and she needed to accept it. It would pass, eventually, and all she needed to do was resign herself to the wait. As if sensing her thoughts, Damon spoke up.

"Don't blame yourself for whatever you're feeling or thinking right now. Arousal is a powerful thing. We can't do what I'm pretty sure you're imagining and wishing we could. But if I were you I'd stop freaking out, and just let go. Heck, enjoy it even. I'd be wishing I'd been given a fix to, if that didn't mean…" He stopped suddenly, but Elena wasn't listening anymore, she had relaxed back against the wall and was lightly running her fingertips across the broken ground, back and forth. Damon's mouth went dry. _Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. No. This cannot be happening_, he thought to himself as realization hit him. But it was happening. His earlier reaction to her words had never gone away, and he had been too distracted by Elena to even notice this, but now, as he shifted, he had to bite back a groan. He was hard, really hard. It wasn't just a reaction to her smell, or his awareness of her desire. There was a building feeling in the bottom of his stomach, flits of anticipation, and he knew. He'd felt this before. It was early in the drug's affect, but he didn't have time to ponder over why it had taken him so long to notice it to begin with.

"I've got some bad news," he announced, trying not to sound as angry, and damn it, turned on, as he was. She flitted her eyes, dark with lust, up to his, and he swallowed hard as he took in her half-lidded stare.

"I may have miscalculated…our predicament."

"I don't understand. How?"

"Mmm, let's just say, you're not the only one flying high tonight."

"Oh. Fuck…" Elena said, cursing uncharacteristically as she caught on.

"Well, yes, if you're putting it delicately." Damon muttered sarcastically. This was not good.

don't believe the things you tell yourself so late at night

you are your own worst enemy, you'll never win the fight

just hold onto me, i'll hold onto you

it's you and me up against the world. **it's you and me.**

Let me know what you think, and if I should continue! **  
**


	2. either way i get screwed

A/N: Thanks for the overwhelming response, I wasn't expecting it at all, but it warms the cockles of me heart ;). Well I've attempted some smut for you guys. Not sure how it goes down, but let me know, and if it's not what you want let me know how I could improve. Thanks!

i'm high class, i'm a whore,  
actually both,  
basically i'm a pro,  
we've all got our own style  
(of baggage),  
why hump it yourself,  
you've made me an offer that i can refuse,  
(course either way i get screwed)  
counter proposal:  
i go home & **jerk off**.

There were three things Elena's brain knew for certain at that moment. One, her body was now beyond her control consumed with a drug-fuelled desire to fuck the man across from her. Two, very soon his body would be in a similar state…only apparently much stronger. Three, they could, under no circumstances go through with what their bodies (_only their bodies_, Elena told herself forcibly) wanted so badly.

Unfortunately, her brain's capacity to hold all this information at the same time was fading, and as Elena watched Damon stand, taking in his roughed up dark hair, his muscular but lean frame, the clenching and unclenching hands at his sides, there became no doubt in Elena's mind that whatever was outside of this room, this cage, was suddenly inconsequential. Because what was _inside_ this cage, was also inside her heart.

She watched him pace; she could see the tendons raised in his neck and arms. His skin had a light sheen to it, from the warmth, the stress, and the restraint. He let out a sudden yell, and kicked a rock on the ground into the heavy metal door, the noise of it ricocheting off echoed by Elena's gasp.

Damon turned swiftly, crouching down in front of Elena, and looking her in the eye for the first time in 20 minutes. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't, the depth in those shadowed eyes was pulling her in, and she shifted uncomfortably. Without breaking eye contact Damon began to speak in a low, harsh voice, his jaw tensing as though it physically hurt him to say the words.

"Elena, take off the necklace."

Elena's eyes widened, and she began to protest, but he cut her short.

"I'm doing this for a reason, you need to trust me. I'm not going to take advantage of you, I'm going to stop what will be inevitable soon, if you don't do what I say," he said sharply, every word enunciated and forced out. Elena realised then that whatever he was doing _was_ physically hurting him. He wanted her, with every fibre of his body, and he was fighting these instincts with surprising determination. She felt momentarily ashamed of how close she'd been to letting those instincts take over, how weakly she had tried to fight them. She lifted one hand and trailed over skin of her chest to the chain of the necklace, her eyes flitting down to his mouth as it opened slightly, to his throat as he swallowed, to his chest as it heaved. He watched her clutch the chain with predatory eyes. With a hiss, she wrenched the necklace from her neck, breaking the clasp, revelling in the pain as it scraped over her skin, and how quickly that pain turned to pleasure. And _Oh, God_, if the sudden rush of wetness between her legs wasn't enough to force her to her knees, her hands reaching out to brace herself on his shoulders. He was hard, immovable, against her hands, she saw his face was stripped of expression, his eyes were looking over the top of her head and she ducked her head in embarrassment. He didn't move a muscle as her breath came in short pants in front of him, her head down, long hair tickling his arms, which had reached out to grasp her around the waist, steadying her. She felt him gently pushing her back, and was amazed by how gentle he was managing to be, she could literally feel the tension running through his muscles, they were jumping slightly with the pressure as he restrained himself. He lifted her head with one hand under her chin, and before she knew it she was looking into his eyes, and they looked so **sad**, and then he was saying words, and those words were her words, she believed them. No, she had thought of them, and she knew.

They came from somewhere far away. _No matter how bad this feeling inside you gets, you can resist me. You will not touch me. There is vervain growing by the window, you __**will**__ use this if I cannot control myself. You may want me, but you will know it is too dangerous to have me. You already __**know**__ this Elena. It's not worth it. _

Somewhere inside she knew he was compelling her, and that small part of her was trying so hard to resist, but then it was gone and she shut her eyes lightly as her mind went momentarily blank.

When she opened her eyes, minutes later, he was sitting directly opposite her, his back braced against the door. She was still incredibly turned on, immediately evidenced by the irregular pulse that continued to rip through her body, harder at the sight of his form, hitting her core with unexpected power. However, she felt a sense of calm and control settle over her. She did know that Damon had compelled this, but she could no more resist it than she could the drug. Her body ached for him but her mind was not torn up with the temptation to go to him. She sighed deeply, shuddering slightly, and looked to the small window, and the vervain that grew there. She hoped she wouldn't have to use it, but as she glanced at Damon's eerily still body, she could feel the rippling energy coming from him, and knew her hope was pointless. She remembered how he had described a vampire's experience of PT-141, and felt a strange twist in side her.

She still wanted Damon, and couldn't help but feel annoyed that she wouldn't be able to give him the 'all-encompassing, out of this world, pleasure' he could have.

She thought briefly of Stefan, and wondered how he was doing, whether he had succumbed to Katherine. She was not entirely surprised to realise that, given she could completely relate to how he'd be feeling, she would not blame him if he was having crazy, violent, increased intensity, vampire sex with Katherine at this point. She felt no jealousy. In fact, thinking about it was kind of a turn on. _Jeez Elena, kind of messed up to have a fantasy involving your ancient vampire doppelganger ancestor, _she thought momentarily, before resting her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. Now she didn't have to worry about containing herself around Damon, maybe she should actually take his advice, and enjoy it…

He could hear her. Everything was accentuated, the hollow regular thump of her heart, the rush of her blood through her veins, her fast, _sexy_, little breaths. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold it together much longer, but God damn it if he wasn't going to try. He felt torn, his heart fracturing as he thought about their situation. It had nearly killed him to compel her into resisting him. She had wanted him, but he had needed to gain control over the situation before it was too late for him as well. He would not let the woman he loved do something he knew she would regret when they were finally let out of here. He didn't want it to be like this. God knew he'd imagined taking her before, late at night, early in the morning, when he pretended that he'd allowed her into his caged heart. But there was no way it was going to happen in such a forced, contrived, pathetic way. She didn't want _him_ right now, she wanted his _cock,_ he thought bitterly. His body gave a little lurch as he was unable to stop images of her getting exactly what she so badly wanted rushing forwards. He groaned throatily and put his head in his hands. He was uncomfortably hard in his jeans, PT-141 was like Viagra on speed for guys, and the regular rushes of blood south without relief were becoming a strange sort of pleasurable pain. He pushed his palms hard into his forehead, trying to control the harsh breaths pushing noisily out of his lungs. He was trembling lightly with the need to release, or at least some relief, and for a moment cursed himself for compelling Elena away from him, before forcing himself to remember why it was necessary.

He glanced up to check on her, and froze. Damon had never hallucinated before taking the drug, but couldn't believe what he was seeing was real.

_She was a motherfucking __**vision.**_

Her legs were stretched out in front of her, bent slightly at the knee. She had her eyes closed, and her head was stretched backwards resting against the wall. Her mouth was opened half way, and he could match the hot little pants coming out of it with her chest as it rose and fell rapidly. Some of her hair that came over her shoulders and was resting on her chest was stuck to the lightly sweating skin. And _Oh fucking Jesus_, what was she doing to him? One hand was against the floor bracing herself, but the other (he had never loved and hated such a strange piece of anatomy so badly) was trailing lightly over the jean-clad skin of her thighs, teasing her self. She was the picture of ecstasy.

Just as she was slowly drawing his fingers up the inside of her right thigh, she opened her eyes, just a crack, and looked straight into his, smirking slightly before closing them again.

He growled lightly in response. He surprised himself by demonstrating a commendable amount of control in that he was _not_ immediately with her, shoving her hand roughly away and replacing it with his, and he was _not _pushing her head hard against the wall with a heated kiss. On the other hand, he was not sure how many more seconds his control could last when she obviously had none of her _own_ bloody control. Her heard her gasp as her hand lightly hit the junction of her thighs, staying there only a second before moving slowly back down her other thigh.

"Elena. You _need_ to stop that. Right _fucking _now." He gritted out, feeling his whole body pulling towards, needing her. He scowled as he heard a small giggle escape her.

"I thought you said I should try to enjoy it?" She said, teasing him, and he wanted to break something, wanted to break _her._

"Elena…I'm serious," he growled, and she couldn't help but moan quietly at how dangerous he sounded.

"So am I, _Damon,"_ she said seriously, mocking him, and continued, "I've been thinking…we can't touch each other, I know that, and I couldn't touch you even if I tried," he was amused by how annoyed and aroused she sounded. It was somehow endearing.

"Yeah…" he said cautiously, fairly certain he already knew where she was going with this.

"But Damon…there's a solution to what we're both feeling. Let's not pretend that we both don't really need to cum right now-", she ignored the choking sound Damon made, "no one can judge us for that, and we certainly can't judge each other…" seeing his face though, she trailed off. His eyes were burning through her, splitting her in two, and when he spoke his voice with thick with tension.

"You're going to need that vervain. _Now,_ Elena."

She swallowed hard, unable to stop her body was reacting to his words, but also did what he said. She stood, and walked unsteadily towards the vervain, her legs feeling weak and shaky. As her thighs rubbed together she was able to tell for the first time just how wet she was. It had gone through the material of her panties and onto her skin. _Fuuuck_, she thought to herself, _this drug doesn't mess around._ Having retrieved a bunch of the plant, she sat back down, wincing as the rough material of her jeans rubbed against her obviously sensitive clit.

"_If_ we're going to do this, you need to keep that vervain beside you, and be prepared to use it," Elena watched his lips moving, barely listening, her mind too caught up in what was about to take place, "Do you understand?" She nodded numbly in response, and saw him nod back to her. That's what this was, an _understanding_, nothing more. They both had itches to scratch; they both knew the consequences of doing this for each other (Elena wasn't sure she could actually remember what those consequences were), and so, they would have to do it for themselves. Elena's inhibitions were so shredded by her arousal, that an act that had always been so private, was about to become very intimate. For a moment she felt panicked, but then she felt a shiver run through her, and caught sight of Damon's hand, she thought it might be shaking a little, resting tentatively on his thigh. She was doing this.

He couldn't believe he was about to do this. In front of _Elena bloody Gilbert_. But she hadn't really left him much choice. She was going to keep touching herself whether he condoned it or not. He could either join her, or lose control, disgracing himself in her eyes forever. So, yes, he was about to jerk off in front of his brother's ex girlfriend, and no, given the alternative, he didn't feel bad about it. In fact if he was being honest, his cock had been aching to be fisted in her hand (or in her hot little mouth, or buried deep in her wet heat) for over an hour, and if he couldn't have her, he'd settle. He cast up his eyes, and met her own.

He wanted to ask if she was going to watch him the whole time, break the tension in the air somehow, he wanted to be able to laugh just a little with her over what they were about to do, but he couldn't. She was looking at him so intensely her dark eyes were lighting him up inside. He pushed away the thought that in the midst of all that desire and determination and embarrassment, there was something else, and it looked like love.

He shifted his hand up his leg, so it rested directly beside the rock hard bulge in his pants, and tore his eyes away from hers as he moaned at the miniscule but incredibly pleasurable relief it immediately provided. Not because he was embarrassed, but because he wanted to let her know it was okay, she could do this, and he wasn't going to hold her eyes in an intense and meaningfully contract during it.

But when he looked back she was still looking at him, with half-closed eyes, not at his face but lower, where his hand was now cupping his erection. He gave it a light stroke and was rewarded with both a low moan from Elena that escaped under her breath, and an intoxicating rush of feather-light pleasure from his abdomen to his cock. _Oh God, this is way too intense already. This isn't normal, it's not like this usually._

She had one hand at her mouth, lightly touching her lips, dragging over the particularly sensitive skin there. The other hand trailed down her taut, quivering stomach, to where her legs were slowly spreading. Her fingers hovered hesitantly over her jean buttons, and before she undid them she ground out in a husky, desperate sounding voice,

"This is a one-time thing."

Damon wasn't sure if she was even talking to him, or just reassuring herself, but she'd never sounded sexier to him, and he stroked himself somewhat harder over the jean material, needing more.

She'd slipped her hand into her pants, and he closed his eyes, willing himself to maintain control, necessary not only because of the image of _her_ touching herself, but also the smell of her (sweat and sex and perfume and **need**) that reached him when a light breeze momentarily disturbed the humidity of the room.

She didn't move her hand, just rested it lightly over her mound, enjoying the pressure, and the sight of Damon, with his eyes closed, one hand gripping himself over the jeans, the other in his hair. He looked somehow pained and ecstatic at the same time, his throat moving as he swallowed strongly.

And then she began to move her fingers and her body was so relieved it shuddered and she groaned low in her throat. She saw him open his eyes as she was lightly running over her thin panties, stop and start, so damp, so warm, _so_ sensitive, she was already too hot. He was staring at her, but she wasn't disconcerted by it, she met his gaze forcibly as she wrenched her hand from her pants with a soft gasp and used both hands to pull her top over her head. She watched him, noticed the way he kept his eyes on hers for seconds before they slowly drifted down her neck to her black bra clad breasts, heaving with her breath. She flushed, not ashamed, just pleased, flattered by his appraising gaze. But this wasn't a time for that, and her stomach muscles clenched when her hand grazed the skin on its way down to her pants, causing a fresh wave of arousal to curse through her. _God, _this was so good. _So_ much better than other times when she had done this, secretly, quietly, and alone. She tried to blame the drug alone, but the tug in her chest she kept feeling when she looked at Damon told her otherwise.

She slipped her hand under her panties as well this time, noting that Damon was shadowing her movements, unzipping his jeans. She touched her fingers to her wetness at the same moment his erection pulled free in his black satin boxers (typical Damon, she managed to think quickly, before her brain was rendered incompetent), and let out a loud gasp.

And then his hand was wrapped around his cock, and her fingers were deftly stroking and slipping over her clit, and both of them were gasping for breath, their bodies straining as the pleasure mounted, the initial relief of touch long gone. Her body was sweating and shaking as she watched his hand moving rapidly up and down, she played with her opening before dragging her wet fingers up to her clit, pressing down tantalisingly hard, before moving back down again. It hadn't taken long but she was near at the edge already, her insides clenching with the need to be filled, and she couldn't help herself from moaning out, "Damon, I, oh fuck, I need you." She slowed her movements as she saw him go still, but couldn't bring herself to stop.

"You do _not_ get to say that." His eyes were boring into hers as he spoke, angry and filled with lust. "You just _don't."_

She faltered but then sped up, she couldn't help herself, in that moment, those eyes, the way they pierced through her as if he was inside her, were pulling her apart.

"Da_mon_…" she groaned, as she thrust two of her fingers into her waiting heat. And before she could stop it she was falling, bucking hard against her hand, a blinding pleasure over taking her body and soul, as she forgot everything except for the gripping waves rolling over her. It seemed to last minutes, but she knew that couldn't be true, time had simply stretched out and become irrelevant. She remembered an old saying, as she came down, little shocks of pleasure still jerking through her as she continued to stroke. "Time doesn't pass. We do." She concentrated on that, as she tried to slow down her rough, heavy breathing. She did it to distract herself from the thought of the man opposite her she hadn't looked at since her eyes had closed, while still looking deeply into his, half way through her climax.

She shouldn't have done that, she thought, as she remembered suddenly the knowledge she couldn't remember if was planted or learnt. _He was dangerous._

Her hand reached out to touch the forgotten vervain lying beside her, and then she opened her eyes.

Two hearts fading, like a flower.  
And all this waiting, for the power.  
For some answer, to this fire.  
Sinking slowly. The water's higher.  
**Desire**

**Oh - **and the songs. Last chapter was Parachute by Ingrid Michaelson. This chapter, I'm Designer by Queens of the Stone Age, and Desire by Ryans Adams.**  
**


	3. baby i got you bad

A/N: Okay, here we are: part III. I'm not that pleased with it, I kind of struggled with it. This story turned out very differently to how I imagined it being, but I've still enjoyed writing it. I know it's not as smutty as a lot of you wanted, but if I write more then that definitely will be. I kind of thought it would be sweet to leave it here though.

babe i got you bad  
dreaming blood-wet dreams  
only madmen have  
baby i got you bad  
i wish to god i never had  
and it makes me feel so sad,  
o, **baby i got you bad**

There was a loud rushing noise in his head, and low throb at the base of his skull, matching that at the base of his spine. His eyes screwed shut he tried to push her out of his mind, that last searing image that he kept tripping over in his head as he rushed, away from the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. She was perfect, and destroyed, and so _gone_, and she'd been looking at him as she came, as if she was his, like an invitation. But she wasn't his, and he didn't deserve her, she was too much of everything he wanted, everything he needed, and she could only resent him if she found out just how **magic** they would fucking be together. Fucking. Because the desire she had for him now would be fading, much too soon, and already the look in her eyes had started to wreck a destructive, hot, loving havoc within him.

And so, as his muscles quivered and shuddered, and his cock ached painfully, heat somehow cursing through his cold body, he made a promise to himself, and to her. He wasn't going to let this chemical that cursed through him win. He was a _vampire_ damn it, he knew control. He may not have always demonstrated it, but he'd always silently congratulated himself those times when he'd had to (and there had been_ many_ of those times since meeting Elena Gilbert). She meant more to him than giving up, giving in, and giving out.

But when he slowly opened his eyes, and it all came back to him, there was no doubt that promise was made to be broken. The drug, and the sight of her in her post-cuming-on-PT-141 haze, combined forces, and the need to possess her slammed into him like a jolt of electricity.

And then she said those words, and he thought _Fuck the old one, _and made a new promise.

She had been watching him carefully, keeping silent, the hand tightly holding the vervain trembling slightly, trying to ignore the way little shots of orgasmic pleasure still irregularly rocked through her. (Trying to ignore how her arousal hadn't abated at all, and instead continued to mount, as if now that her body understood the pleasure it could have, it only wanted more, again, harder.) She didn't feel embarrassed that Damon had just seen her fall apart, although she felt slightly weird about how she had begged for him, and called his name as she came. And she felt guilty for it too, but she noted this guilt had nothing to do with betrayal, or Stefan, or even wanting the man she really wasn't supposed to want. Instead she knew that she wasn't allowed to do that, she was tempting, _teasing_ a beast. A dangerous one. She supposed it _was_ rather unfair to invite him to fuck her, knowing that he was trying so hard to fight it, to do the right thing, and that if he had complied with her wishes she would've attacked him with vervain anyway.

_Yeah_,_ not the brightest idea Elena you tease, _she thought, even as she felt a rush of fresh wetness under her still fingers at the thought of what would happen if he _was_ able to comply. She couldn't exactly remember being compelled, but she knew she had been, and at that moment she really wished she hadn't been. She tried to convince herself that he _wasn't_ dangerous, that she could touch him, and give them both what they wanted. But it was like a barrier came up which her thoughts rebounded against. Then she was distract by his eyes opening, slowly, and as they caught on hers she flushed, noticing the way he seemed to break, as if her still being there was painful for him. And she knew what she had to do.

"Damon, compel me again. Let me do this", she said in a low, quiet voice. She knew he had heard her, his whole body had clenched, but half a minute passed and he had not responded.

And then he rose slowly and she watched him keenly from beneath her eyelashes, taking note of his languid smooth movements as he walked towards her, swallowing when she noted his unzipped jeans, where he was still stiff underneath his thin boxers. She scooted up against the wall quickly, unable to prevent her hand rising to put the vervain between him and her, even at the same time as she was gasping under her breath from the friction of her tight jeans against her over-stimulated sex. Her smirked leisurely at her, suddenly seeming more in control, more at ease than he ever had since she had woken up in this dank dungeon, and sank down to crouch before her.

"We could be so good," he murmured, almost himself, "but I don't just mean physically. We would've always been phenomenal together physically. But now, and I _know_ you know it; we're more than that. This is about more than that."

She nodded, seeming to understand, and he felt a small sliver of hope enter something like his soul, resting in the place he'd forgotten he had, his heart.

His pupils widened, "Elena, you can put down the vervain." Her hand dropped the vervain immediately, and went out to touch him before faltering, unable. He paused, and she searched his eyes, confused.

"Please, Damon," she said, her voice raw.

"I'm not letting you forget this time. You have a choice to make, and it's time you made it," he swallowed, and she felt that strange sensation again, as her thoughts faded and his voice came, distant but clear, "I want you, Elena, I'd say that's fairly obvious. But I don't just want your body, I want all of you, I _love_ all of you. So if we're going to do this, and I want to, God, I want to so bad you have no idea," his voice stumbled a little, "then I need something from you. You get to decide. If you genuinely have, and can admit having, feelings for me, then we will get to do this properly; you will be able to touch me. If not, we'll be waiting it out." He finished, his eyes defiantly staring into hers, and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear, his thumb grazing her cheekbone as he did so. "Oh, and by the way, how dangerous you know or think I am, is no longer in my control." He smiled, a bittersweet smile, watching as her eyes unclouded and she blinked at him, registering the gravity of the situation she was in.

"You'll need some time", he said softly, his chest constricting tightly as he saw tears welling in the corners of her eyes. He gestured at the far corner of the square room, "I'm gonna be over there if you…want me", he continued tightly. And a split second later, he was.

* * *

Minutes passed. A cold had come over Elena that was in contrast to the warmth of the room, and the burning heat in her core, and she hugged herself tightly, feeling bewildered.

"Looks like it would help both my situation, and yours, if you'd put your top back on," Damon contributed from the corner, "although I can think of much better ways you could help _my_ situation."

"I see that now that you've transferred all the emotional baggage and responsibility of this circumstance to me, you've gone back to being your old self. How nice for you." Elena replied scathingly, reluctantly reaching out for her top and pulling the dark red material over her head.

"Mmmm well, you've already had _your fun_ this evening, why shouldn't I have some?"

"Yeah, and the satisfaction of that fun lasted all of a minute, didn't it?" she muttered rhetorically to herself, still just as, if not more, sexually frustrated as before. Damon groaned.

"Please don't be saying things like that right now Elena."

"I didn't say anything 'like that', _Damon." _Was he really still telling her what to do, after what had just happened? She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about the inevitable decision she had to make, and how she already knew somehow, exactly what her decision was going to be.

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Something like _that_ would be…" Elena paused as if considering something, and then continued with a grin, "_Oh, _Damon, I'm so _hot _right now, please, satisfy me until this burning heat goes away." She knew she was being a bitch, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to punish him, just for a little bit. And if she was being honest she liked the way it made her feel, as she registered her body responding to her mild dirty talk.

"Shut the _fuck_ up Elena," Damon growled, unbelieving of how unfair she was being. Wasn't she supposed to be either curled up in a corner feeling guilty over rejecting him, or fucking him right now? Not sitting there all smug like, teasing him.

She scowled and fell silent, watching him, and finally let her mind settle on what he'd said, those words that she felt strongly that she'd heard before. Her eyes widened slightly as she realised that he probably _had_ said it before. That night, when she opened her eyes and her necklace was back on, but she couldn't remember how it got there. It was suddenly very clear, and she noticed she feltsad that she had missed that, such an important moment for them. For the first time she let this emotion in, how sad she felt for him, and for her. How she'd been feeling that way about them for a while now. Because she had not allowed herself to acknowledge what she had been denying.

"Damon," she said hesitantly, needing to know. "Have you told me that before?"

"Of course I have, you can be annoying as fuck sometimes."

"No, uh, not that. I mean that you…love me." She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and for the first time it had nothing to do with the arousal she had somehow managed to push to the bottom of her list of priorities (Okay well maybe not the bottom, but at least to number two).

"Yes," he replied shortly, and she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She couldn't figure out why it was so important, he had admitted to his feelings just minutes ago. But it was.

"That night, in my bedroom…before you gave me back my necklace?"

"Yes..." he said again, feeling a vulnerability he hadn't often felt. He closed his eyes lightly at what she said next.

"Will you let me remember?"

He felt an ache build inside him at the thought that she_ wanted_ to remember. Growing hope, growing pain, remembering how it had hurt him to make her forget. How it had hurt him today, to compel her in the opposite direction from him _again_. Not anymore, he had promised himself.

"Maybe. That depends on a lot of things. Or, well, one thing."

"I understand," she said quietly. It was not a response he had expected; he had thought this conversation would lead to something. That in order to remember, she would let him in. But he knew it wasn't easy for her, he had made it that way deliberately. He looked across at her; she was sitting cross-legged, frowning slightly, her fingers playing with the stones on the ground absentmindedly. She looked so cute, and frustrated, and he smiled a little in spite himself. She wouldn't be the woman he loved if she didn't take her time with this, and he respected that. He allowed his mind to slip away from the intensity of the wait, and concentrated on enjoying the way the drug was affecting him. He had never achieved his own release, and while emotion had distracted him from this, he now let an awareness of his body take over him. Hadn't he said something to Elena earlier (it felt like so long ago) about enjoying it? And _she_ had.

Elena picked up a small stone and rubbed it between her fingers. She tried to remove herself from this cage she was in, remember the real world. She imagined herself walking up the stairs, into the cavernous Salvatore home, into Stefan's room. She focused particularly hard on Stefan. How did she feel about him? She wasn't sure anymore, and if she was being honest (and she was trying her best to be), she hadn't been for a while now. He made her feel kind of safe, and loved, and he had found a piece of her that she had thought was lost forever after the death of her parents. But he didn't make her_ ignite_. He didn't make her feel the same passion, the same anger, and the same deep fear that she might lose him as she did when she was with (when she even thought about) Damon. She continued to imagine herself walking around in the outside world, which felt so far away from this room, and everywhere she went in her mind she would stop and imagine again, Damon telling her he loved her, asking her to make a choice. And she tried to imagine herself making a different choice than the one her whole being was aching to make where she was now. She couldn't. And she was forced to acknowledge that the way she was feeling right now had little to do with the drug, or Katherine's plan, or the circumstances she and Damon were in, and _everything_ to do with the fact that she loved him.

She knew it wouldn't be easy, and that this was just the beginning. Stefan would be hurt (_but possibly not __**that**__ hurt, _she couldn't help but think, _if his night with Katherine has gone anything like mine_), and her friends and family would be disappointed and confused. In fact, Katherine would likely be the only happy one. And would that be such a bad thing, really? Elena could finally stop thinking about jealous vampire ex-girlfriends, and so could Stefan. She knew he and Katherine had something, she'd always felt it, and she'd never quite believed he'd kept a picture of her for over one hundred years as an act of _self-preservation. _

But all the other people in her life were fading into an irrelevant jumble of reasons why she shouldn't do the thing that felt more right, more real, to her than anything had in a very long time. She was sure now what she had to do, and the only way to test if she was right about the way she felt, and not just confused and drug addled, was to do it.

She let the stone drop to the ground, and her eyes drifted away from her idle hands, towards where Damon sat. For the first time she became aware of his heavy breathing, and cast her eyes sharply to focus on him. "Oh no," she barely whispered, quite lustily.

"Oh, yes," he replied in a thick, teasing voice. "Now you know how I felt. Two can play this game, Elena." He wasn't trying to tempt her; he knew that no matter how badly he made her want him physically, he wouldn't be able to change how she felt about him. But he could admit to feeling slightly powerful, slightly gratified, although mainly just _hellishly_ turned on, knowing she was watching him jerk off.

With a heady, satisfying rush, Elena's persistent arousal returned full strength, banishing all thoughts from her mind but one that she now knew for certain…_I'm doing the right thing. _And then even that was gone, and all she could concentrate on was the dull pulse below, the slick wet feeling in her panties, and the antagonising, restless need that was growing in her centre. She broke eye contact with him to let her eyes take in the sight of his hand, clenched around his now bare erection, moving in a fast, then slow, then fast again rhythm. It was different to watching him before, it felt more honest, and it felt more satisfying, knowing that there was more to the kick of arousal that hit her while watching him than just some sex drug. She heard him hiss as he paused to thumb the head, and for a little bit felt like she couldn't breathe. Her entire body was tingling, and she shuddered as she let her hand graze the jeans at the apex of her thighs, the material damp with her arousal and sweat. She saw his other hand grip one of his thighs tightly as he noticed her movement, and couldn't help the images that her mind rapidly supplied, of that hand, gripped tightly around her own thigh, spreading her as he teased her mercilessly with his tongue, around her waist as he pulled her in for a bruising kiss, entwined with her own hand as he entered her. Her breathing shortened and she felt an escalating urge, an unstoppable need, to have him _in_ and around her. To be able to show him how much she wanted him to have that part of her.

Still tugging his desperately hard cock, Damon watched, overwhelmed by pleasure and surprise, as Elena rose to her knees and began to _fucking crawl_ towards him. He stopped, keeping his hand on himself guardedly, when she reached him, her eyes scanning over him hotly, making his dick twitch. He frowned at her, waiting, as she refused to meet his eyes.

An irrational fear had settled in Elena, and she tried to reassure herself, tried not to feel intimidated by the strength, the desire, (the love) she felt coming off Damon's body in waves. She finally let her eyes meet his and felt her mind relax, her body clench, and her clit pulse, at the look she saw here. He was letting her have him, completely, not knowing the outcome yet, and she felt she had been given a privilege, a responsibility. She could make him the man that he always should've been. And so, with shaking hand, she reached out, and noticed the way he tensed and his eyes hardened when she paused, centimeters away from his face. But then she pushed on, through any doubts she may have had left, and laid her hand softly a long the side of his face.

He throbbed. She felt it beneath her fingers as she leaned in, stopping only briefly to say, _I am yours now_, before touching her lips to his.

here we are again  
i feel the chemicals kickin' in  
it's gettin' heavier  
i wanna run and hide  
i do it every time  
you're killin' me now  
and I won't be denied by you  
**the animal inside of you**

I hope y'all kind of understood what I was nutting on about here. Still unbeta'd so difficult for me to see where things may be missing. Please ask if you're confused about anything.

Would love to hear what you thought of it.

Music from this chapter was Babe I got you Bad, by Nick Cave and Animal, by Neon Trees.


	4. the velvet sun

A/N: So, getting this out took much longer than I was expecting. Sorry about that. Christmas madness and sick grandparents have both been rife in my family. I found it difficult to write this, but I hope you like it. And I hope you all had a lovely and safe Christmas.

the day is breaking, we're still here  
your body's shaking, and it's clear  
you really need it, so let go  
and let me beat it, but you know  
that i've been down across the road or two  
but now i've found the velvet sun  
that **shines on me and you**

He heard her take a deep shuddering breath as he reacted to her touch, pushing his lips hard back against hers, his tongue tracing her lips. Damon couldn't believe she was kissing him. _Elena Gilbert was kissing him_. She could _touch_ him. And it meant so much more than just the fingers resting on his face, surprisingly hesitantly. More than the way she was beginning to explore his mouth with her hot little tongue, her breath mingling with his own. More than them fucking on the floor of a dark room in his basement. More than him coming inside her. More than her moaning his name as he pushed her over the edge.

It meant _everything. _He couldn't help but take pause from the sensations that were overwhelming him to guiltily thank Katherine, and those damn pharmaceutical companies, for the role they had played in setting her on the path towards him.

He strained forward and upwards to her, needing more, his hands reaching to grasp her around the waist, pulling her down towards him. She moaned into his mouth, their kiss becoming urgent, her hands moving quickly to grip his shoulders tightly. Damon broke his mouth away from hers, taking in her swollen lips and dazed eyes, before leaning in to bite her gently on the ear, and whispering, "This might get rough." Elena sank down into him, her head falling to his shoulder as he moved his assault down the side of her neck.

"Don't care," she managed to mutter, enjoying the feeling of his hard thighs beneath hers, "need this." Damon's hands moved roughly up her body to her head, forcing her to look at him, amazed at the trust he saw there.

"How did I get so goddamn lucky?" He asked. Elena gave him a small, wicked grin, before thrusting her hips against his playfully, and they both gasped at the brief, searing contact. She couldn't help herself from doing it again, slowly, her senses heightening even further as her jean-clad centre met his painfully hard erection. She stayed there, dazed by pleasure, and leaned forward to kiss Damon again, lazily, and then harder when he thrust his own hips up, giving her much needed friction.

She could feel the need that had been building inside her becoming unbearable; she had never felt this wet before, never felt this sensitive and desperate. Feeling him hard beneath her, his dark hair messy and eyes slightly crazed, she knew Damon was feeling the same. He had leaned back against the wall, and was watching her face as she pleasured them both, rubbing herself against him. One of his hands went down to rest on her hip as she moved, while the other remained at her jaw, to bring her face down, only centimetres from his.

"You know this isn't the drug right? You need to know that," his voice was rough, his eyes burning, and she nodded almost imperceptibly, intoxicated by him. "I've done PT-141 before, and it's never been like_ this_." He thrust up against her hard at the last word. "It's not the drug. It's you. It's _us._" It took all her effort to keep her eyes open, her body was shuddering lightly, her skin flushed and damp. She kissed him hard then, meeting his demanding tongue for a few moments before slowly stopping all of her movements.

"I know," she said softly against his mouth, "I know. I can feel it everywhere. There's this throbbing, and fuck, yes, it's down _there_, but it's everywhere else too. I can feel it in my chest. In my heart." She kissed him again. "I know."

He growled low in his throat and grabbed her hips roughly, lifting her off him, till they were both on their knees, his hands supporting her as she steadied herself. Her could hear her pulse beginning to positively race as he skittered his fingers across the exposed skin between her top and jeans, before abruptly pulling the top off her in one smooth movement and throwing it away from them. She moaned gently as his hands began to travel over her exposed skin with a light, torturing touch, drawing circles up her hips, over her stomach and the edge of her ribs, grazing the underside of her breasts. Her own hands let go of their firm grasp on his biceps, moving down to the top of his jeans to pull him closer to her, before slipping under the material of his shirt. She felt the hard muscles of his abdomen tense as she touched him urgently. She needed to feel his skin against hers, and he seemed to sense this, or maybe he just had the same hunger, suddenly leaning back from her and ripping his shirt off speedily. Then before she knew it he had pulled her against him, his hard chest rubbing hers as he kissed her hungrily, moaning into her mouth. She could feel his hardness digging into her lower abdomen, and ground against him, gasping when a fresh rush of wet pleasure rewarded her. Damon broke away from the kiss harshly in response and stared her down with black eyes, saying nothing as he pushed her roughly to the floor. She watched him kneeling there between her spread legs eagerly; she was lying on her back, panting, her body straining. His hands hooked into the top of her jeans and peeled them down and off her legs, leaving her in only her plain black panties and bra.

It felt so surreal to her, impossible that this vampire, this man, was _hers_. He was remarkable. His eyes were filled with love and desire as he regarded her, his throat working. She allowed her eyes to drift over his strong, defined body, pale in the darkness, and rest on his open jeans. Without thinking she lifted one of her hands and stroked his straining penis lightly. He jerked against her, cursing, and encouraged by his reaction she began to stroke him firmly, lifting her eyes to stare directly into his.

Damon couldn't believe how erotic this felt, considering how mild it was on the scale of his past experiences. But with that hot little hand on his cock, stroking him innocently, and those sweet half-open eyes boring into his he felt overwhelmed. And Damon Salvatore _did not do_ overwhelmed, especially when it came to sex. He was meant to be the picture of cool control, but he found himself feeling ready to break. The girl he loved was jerking him off. Jesus Christ. He grabbed her wrist and reluctantly pulled her hand away from his throbbing dick, ignoring her whimpered complaint.

"We're going to do this right," he growled seductively, enjoying the shiver he saw run through her. His hand was still holding her wrist and as he leaned down over her he grabbed her other one and pinned them both to the ground on either side of her head. His hips came to rest in-between her legs at the same time as he kissed her roughly and they both moaned in relief, immediately moving against each other, both seeking friction with a depraved urgency that could only come from being under the combined influence of a sex drug, and love. Elena wrapped her legs around him, pushing herself up into him, and the persistent heat that pooled between her legs began to throb rhythmically, giving her no break from the pleasure that rocked through her. She craned her neck back as Damon began to lick and nip his way down her throat, sucking on her collarbone as her eyes glazed over, unseeing. He kept Elena's wrists pinned to the rough ground, even as she struggled against him, wanting to touch him. His mouth continued to journey down her chest, the light stubble on his jaw grazing her sensitive skin.

She groaned lightly, the feeling of his tongue on the tops of her breasts, teasing her, was sending unrelenting pleasure down her spine. Her body was so completely focused on its arousal that the pain of the rough floor digging into her back was numbed, providing a contrasting sort of pleasure as she writhed beneath him.

Still keeping her desperate arms captive, Damon used his teeth to roughly pull her bra down, exposing her, the sudden violent movement causing Elena to arch strongly towards him. She continued to arch as his mouth latched onto one of her hard nipples, sucking forcefully.

"Da- ohhhh…fuuuu…st-stop." She said breathlessly, after minutes of him paying almost painful attention to both her dusky nipples. He pulled his mouth from her, and she felt a perverse kind of satisfaction at how hungry he looked, how irritated he was to be pulled away from _her_, how he couldn't stop himself from looking down at her, admiring her glistening peaks that were flushed and grazed by his stubble. He looked back up to her face, confusion in his eyes as he restrained himself from going straight back to his administrations. She looked intensely up at him through her lashes, and he swallowed thickly as she smirked very briefly at him. _God, she looks like fucking sex epitomised._

"What? Is something wrong?" He said in a deep and tense (but also gentle) voice. Elena saw a look of uncertainty, maybe fear, cross his face.

"No!", she replied quickly, and leaned up to kiss him quickly but heatedly on the lips, before whispering against them, "I just…I need more." She bucked her hips against his to make her point, and tried to suppress a giggle as his eyes widened.

"Well, who would've thought, Elena Gilbert, playing coquet with the king of coquettish…", he said huskily, smirking as she raised one eyebrow at him.

"Still talking, Damon? Really?" She teased, and then moaned as he suddenly ground himself slowly against her, his eyes blazing on hers.

"I like talking" He said seriously, before he was kissing her again, drugging her with the languid touch of his tongue, both of them unable to stop their bodies from continuing to move urgently against each other. She began a renewed effort to try to free her wrists, to get this show on the _fucking_ road. He growled in response, and she bit his lip, hard.

"_Damon," _she glared up at him (she was adorable), "please." Her husky, frustrated whine was unbelievably sexy to him, so he thought maybe he'd draw this whole thing out a little bit longer. Sure, every inch of his body was demanding release, (in a hot prickly way that he was certain he hadn't felt since he became vampire), but…it was fun to play.

His mouth began to move down her body again, pausing briefly to unexpectedly kiss both her breasts tenderly, in a way that made Elena blush. Then it was hot on her ribs, his wet tongue flicking at her skin in a way that caused a small thump low within her, as she suddenly imagined it on her clit, knowing she wouldn't have to be _imagining_ much longer. It struck her that she would _never_ have to imagine anything about Damon ever again. No more fantasising about his touch, no more mouthing his name silently as she came by her own hand, no more fleeting, saddening thoughts of how they might be together. He was hers now, it was real, that exquisite feeling of his tongue against her skin was _real_. She felt more alive, more in the moment, than she could remember ever feeling.

He had dragged her wrists down with him, and held them next to her hips as he tongued the skin just above her panties, feeling her quiver beneath him, enjoying the sound of her panting growing louder.

He finally let go of her hands reluctantly, but she kept them at her sides as he lifted her hips and pulled her underwear down her legs. He sat back on his knees, staring at her, taking her in. From her flushed, sweating face, her eyes closed, panting mouth open, down to her reddened breasts that moved with her heaving chest, the erotic sight of her bra unevenly pulled down beneath them, the straining flat muscles of her stomach, and then, _finally, _he let his eyes rest on her exposed sex.

"Oh, fuck. Elena, you're dripping wet. I can see it from here." She groaned quietly in response to his gravelly voice and opened her eyes to meet his heated gaze. He had hitched her legs, bent at the knee, to either side of him, and his hands, which had rested on her knees, began to slowly move, his thumbs drawing circles gradually down the skin of her inner thighs. "This drug got you bad," he murmured, and she saw his eyes flick from hers, down to between her legs, feeling a light trickle under his gaze.

"It's you Damon." He didn't look up at her, it appeared he had barely noticed she had spoken. "Damon."

"Hmmm?"

She took a deep breath as she felt his fingers inch their way closer.

"It's not just the drug, Damon. It's _you._ I know it." She was surprised by the smirk that crept onto his face, and finally he looked back to her eyes. And then, at the same time as his fingers lightly grazed over the throbbing flesh of her folds, he leaned down closer to her and whispered, "I know that. I've _always_ known, even when you refused to accept it", before thrusting two fingers straight into her, his thumb clamping down hard on her clit as he worked within her. She moaned loudly, and then she could do nothing to hold it back, the heat that had pooled so strongly in her pelvis was released, and rocked through the rest of her body, both aggressive and tender. Her hips bucked up into him, drawing his fingers in as deep as they could go, and he felt his cock twitch and ache at the feeling of her muscles clenching and rippling tightly around them. Moans were ripped from her throat as her orgasm continued, his thumb still pressing down on her clit, forcing extra shocks of pleasure to shoot up her back. He suddenly noticed that her hands, once idle, were now grasping roughly at her breasts and nipples, and couldn't help but gape at the sight that he had only ever fantasised about. He slowed the movement of his fingers within her, and watched her body shudder strongly before her muscles finally relaxed, and her knees sank to the floor. He had _never_ wanted to be _in_ someone nearly as badly as he did in that moment.

"Elena. Look at me." She moaned very quietly, but her eyes remained closed. "Open your eyes." She frowned, before opening them slowly, looking straight into his, with a defiance that dissolved as soon as she saw the look in his eyes. An unhidden, unrestrained look of love and passion. He saw her gulp and smiled.

"I was planning on tasting you," he chuckled seeing her eyes light up, "but after _that_ I can't wait. I need to be in you." She nodded in understanding, the warmth in her beginning to grow again as she looked down to his now very hard and straining cock. She wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs as he lowered himself down to her, coming to rest in between her legs. She gasped at the feel of his naked skin against hers, his length hard against her sensitive, wet flesh, small aftershocks rocking her lightly at the contact. For a moment they stayed still, his eyes exploring hers as he tenderly pushed stray hairs from her face and tucked them behind her ears.

"I love you." He said earnestly, and then before she could reply, his mouth was on hers. His tongue quickly became passionate and demanding, his body was no longer willing to be patient. She responded equally eagerly, determined to _show_ him her reply if she had to. _I love you too. _

She used her feet to push his jeans down his thighs, and he kicked them the rest of the way off, the movement causing their hips to bump together hard, drawing erratic moans from both of them, that intermingled in the humid air of the dark room before fading to the sound of their harsh, heavy breathing. She struggled to get her arms behind her back, finally yanking off her bra that had been digging uncomfortably into her ribs, while he continued to kiss her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in a way that made her yearn for him to be properly inside her.

Deciding she had waited long enough, a quick shift of Elena's hips placed him at her entrance, his head nudging into her. Damon opened his eyes and pulled his mouth away, studying her face intently, never wanting to forget this moment. She looked up at him encouragingly, lovingly, waiting.

"This is happening" he said, sounding awed.

"It's happening." Elena repeated him, with more certainty, and then at the same moment they both shifted, him pushing himself into her as she lifted herself to meet him.

It was like something switched inside Damon as he slid into her tight, beautiful heat. Any sense of calm, any intentions to be slow and loving and gentle, were suddenly replaced by a raw need. He couldn't help beginning to move immediately, giving Elena no time to adjust to him, absorbed by the feeling of her melding to fit him perfectly. But when she began to scratch her fingernails down his back, and kiss him eagerly, nipping his lips and ignoring the clashing of their teeth, he was aware she was just as impatient as he was to reach release.

He was suddenly aware of how roughly he was pushing into her, and the gritty ground that would be digging painfully into her back with every thrust.

Immediately his hands had gripped her firmly around her waist while he twisted, so that he was lying on his back, her straddling him. She was still for a few seconds (although he could still feel her clenching unintentionally around him), looking wild-eyed and crazy and thoroughly _fuckable_. He allowed himself to enjoy the view of her, as well as where they joined, for only a short time before he impatiently thrust up into her, using his hands to guide her to move. It wasn't long before she got used to being in control, and began to experiment, enjoying the flits of annoyance and satisfaction that crossed Damon's face as she teased them both. She swivelled her hips in a full circle, moaning at the feeling of him gliding in her, his head hitting her g-spot with every small thrust downwards she gave. The unpredictable changes in speed and direction were driving Damon fast to the edge, his fingers gripped tightly to her hips, leaving white marks when he moved them to her thighs. He resisted the urge to flip her back over and pound into her roughly until he came, unseeing. Elena's own hands were moving quickly over the muscles of his abdomen and chest, before coming to a rest on his shoulders, leaning over him further as she moved, enjoying the way her clit rubbed against him. The pressure was building inside her again now, everything felt so overwhelmingly _good,_ and there was that feeling like she never wanted it to end, but it _had_ to. She began to move faster, up and down more rhythmically, Damon encouraging her with his ragged groans as she did.

An overwhelming feeling came over Damon as he watched Elena above him. His chest felt constricted, his throat dry, it was as if it wasn't _enough_ to be in her, he needed more, and he began to feel desperate as he felt his impeding orgasm. He quickly reached up to pull her down onto him, kissing her hard enough to draw blood and then licking it from her mouth without stopping to gage her reaction. She whimpered but continued to kiss him back, with a similar urgency. He snaked one hand down her body, feeling her jerk when it reached the place where they joined, and used two fingers to rub her wet clit frantically.

"You can bite me…if you want," Elena groaned out, her movements becoming erratic as the heaviness in her core mounted, ready to explode.

"Not this time my love," he managed to get out, overwhelmed even by the thought. Drinking her blood in this scenario, with the drug running through her system, would shatter them both, possibly not in a good way. He wouldn't take the risk. _But soon, _he promised her silently.

He held her body against his with his arm around her back as she moved, feeling the muscles in his body tense with soon to be released energy. She was twitching as he began to thrust into her harder, tremors running through the skin of her back beneath his hand. The room was filled with the sound and smell of their sex, intoxicating both of them as they worked ever closer to release.

His fingers continued to move against her swollen clit, working her up into a fury, until finally, everything snapped, her body tensed completely, clenching around him as a white searing pleasure ripped through her, leaving her boneless, unable to control her body from riding it out. She wrenched open her eyes, she needed to be with him in this moment, needed to _see_ it. She forced her eyes to focus on his, satisfied by his wild glare, and tried to move her mouth, even as her body writhed above him and waves of pleasure washed through her.

"I _love_ you."

She thought she felt him swell within her as he joined her in ecstasy. He yelled her name coarsely as he spilled himself forcefully into her, a powerful, burning pleasure racing through his veins, his mind able to think of only one thing. Her.

He held her shaking, exhausted body to his as she came down, still moving softly in her, unable to stop. One hand smoothed her hair gently, tangling it around his fingers, loving the feeling of her hot moist breath against his chest, where she had collapsed onto him. She was so warm and soft in his arms, and he revelled in it, slightly surprised at the relief he felt now that they had gotten rid of some of the extremely distracting sexual tension. He knew it may not last long, that the drug still had hours to go yet before it wore out, but in this moment he was able to concentrate completely on the woman who lay on his chest. And she was finally his.

One of her hands lay limp on him, and he lifted his own hand up to cup it, feeling a swell of warmth in him as she intertwined their fingers, her breathing slowly becoming even. Nothing needed to be said. He closed his eyes, and let himself drift off into a weightless doze, feeling content even while knowing all the while that it wasn't even nearly over yet. This room, once their cage, had become their home. They'd be leaving it soon, and their actions wouldn't be without consequences in the outside world. But he knew they could do it. They had been weak as separate parts, but now together they were strong. And Damon was determined they wouldn't be broken apart. He would never allow them to be separate parts again.

Our minds pressed and guarded  
While our flesh disregarded  
The lack of space for the light-hearted  
In the boom that beats our drum  
And I know I make you cry  
I know sometimes you wanna die  
But **do you really feel alive without me?**

Is this the end? I'm not sure, but a part of me wants to do an epilogue to explore the details that were kind of skipped over in the rush to smut. Like, what happened to get them both in there, how they get out, what happened to Stefan et cetera et cetera**...**Let me know if you do want that (any further chapters wouldn't be posted for a while as I'm going away), and also what you thought of this chapter. **  
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